


A long time coming

by Cellothebandit (melchellington)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Consensual, F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26135695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchellington/pseuds/Cellothebandit
Summary: Starting post ep 106 when they're still preparing for Travelercon. I wrote this before 107 so ty to Marisha Ray for obviously making the first fighting pit scene in chapter 1 canon. Then I started imagining how their relationship would blossom once they actually decide to go for it and that's where chapter 2 comes from.The lesbians face off in the sand pit then tend to each other afterwards BUT JUST A LITTLE.Who wins? Will it be a fair fight? Does Yasha really smell like crayons?
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 9
Kudos: 203





	1. The Fighting Pit

The quiet murmuring of the crowd grows to a roar as a gong is struck. They seem to be cheering for blood more than the two women at the center of the cacophony. 

Beau’s light brown skin is already glistening with sweat even though she’s been stripped down to just the tight fitting crop top and loose linen pants of her cobalt soul uniform. The rules require removal of any magic items so her arms are bare of their gloves and bracers and her exposed toes grip the warm sand. A lock of hair falls from a freshly tightened top bun as she shakes her head to prepare. She swipes it away, barely tucking it in behind her ear and brings her wrapped hands up into her signature defensive stance.

Yasha charges first. Most of her dusky mane has been pulled into a thick, high bun, somewhat matching Beau’s style, though the sheer volume of hair causes it to be significantly less tame. She is down to her dark leather bodice and tight black pants. A wide spray of sand kicks up from her heavy soled boots as she bounds toward Beau. She curls her fingers into a tight fist and channels the pain of her own fingernails digging into her palm to feed the rage in her veins. 

The fist comes a bit faster than Beau was expecting and makes direct contact with the side of her face. She is grateful that they are bare of their special rings. The strike only knocks her slightly off balance and, though she does not plant face first, into the sand, she turns just enough to suffer a second blow to her ribs. Luckily she’s been practicing her breathing techniques a lot recently and there is no air there to be knocked from her lungs.

She does use the momentum to take a few steps away from Yasha then quickly turns to face her. “Okey, definitely not pulling our punches.” A trickle of blood from where the fist had smashed her nose ring into her face touches her lips. She spits it out without relinquishing eye contact with the barbarian’s wild eyes. “Well...Pop pop.”

Yasha grunts lightly as Beau returns the two blows and adds two more. She is able to pull her face back so quickly on the first blow that it only finds a few locks of disheveled white, tipped hair. But she is off balance enough that her abdomen is exposed and the next three punches strike true, climbing up her abdomen in succession. She loses much of the air from her lungs but channels this pain into a haphazard lunge that Beau isn’t quite expecting.

The thick arms wrap around Beau’s whole torso, pinning the cloth wrapped arms to her sides. Yasha pulls her arms together hard, linking her hands behind Beau’s back, squeezing and lifting her into the air. This is definitely a different kind of flight than Beau is used to but having Yasha’s body pressed to hers is not unexciting. That is, until something in her torso pops.

“Alright, enough fucking around,” Beau pulls her freed feet back to deliver a swift kick to each of Yasha’s shins and the shock of it causes her to falter. She still has Beau wrapped in a rather unpleasant hug, but her legs bend at the knees and the earth is returned to Beau’s feet. 

Beau uses this new leverage to crouch a bit and rocket her body upward into a headbutt. Yasha has no choice but to let go, pain searing through her head as her vision goes white. She goes down to all fours as Beau swings herself free and uses the opening to twist and pin one of Yasha’s arms behind her. She holds it there then brings her other arm around to put Yasha into a loose headlock intended to keep her in place more than restrict her breathing.

In this position Beau leans her lips to Yasha’s ear. She gives it a gentle bite then whispers, “Give in, yet?” The warm breeze of her breath tickles the hairs on Yasha’s neck causing a shock to run through her body. Despite the heat, goose pimples appear on her pale skin. 

Yasha grins widely and playfully chides Beau, “Haha, you fight dirty.”

“Hmm, would you have it any other way?” Beau responds in turn. 

“No,” the word is as quick at Yasha’s movements. She uses her free hand to push herself up then forms another fist to make contact with Beau’s temple, which is still hovering just above her broad shoulder. Beau does not want to take another blow to the face so she releases the headlock and jumps back just in time to dodge it.

Yasha loses balance from this and tumbles forward. She rolls to her side then a flurry of sand explodes from the ground as she leaps to both feet simultaneously. Her clenched fists swing wildly, instinctively expecting to counter another strike from Beau. Instead the slender dark skinned human is standing about 10 feet away, looking relatively nonplussed. It’s Yasha’s turn to spit blood into the sand. 

“Is this what they call playing hard to get?” she asks while slowly stepping at an angle toward Beau who is matching her movements to maintain the distance. 

Beau has one hand held lazily aloft to prepare to deflect and the other is gingerly holding the side of her body where the popping sound came from earlier. Something is very likely wrong with one of her ribs. “Yasha, have I ever really been hard to get? I’m right here,” she spread her arms out to her sides in a conspicuous attempt to taunt Yasha into charging her. 

It works but Yasha doesn’t let her guard down entirely. She is ready when Beau dodges the charge by attempting a leaping flip kick. As the leading foot is bearing straight toward the back of Yasha’s head she stops in her tracks and whips around, grabbing Beau’s foot mid air with her left hand and punching straight up with her right hand. The fist connects with the back of Beau’s thigh and the intense pain causes Beau to abandon the rest of her rotation and crash into the ground. 

“Gotcha,” Yasha looms over her. 

“Yeah, yeah you did,” Beau’s voice is pained. Her leg is numb and she is having difficulty using it to stand up again. After a few failed attempts, a sadness and slight panic of seeing Beau genuinely struggle hits Yasha hard. She drops to her knees next to Beau and opens her mouth to say something but is cut off. 

“I”m ok, it’s just a charley horse,” she says in response to the worry on Yasha’s face. Beau is rubbing her leg and writhing a bit. Her hair has nearly abandoned the band holding it together. Layers of sand are clinging to her damp skin and clothes and her nosebleed never truly stopped causing a thick build up of clotted blood above her lips. “I’m fine, really.”

“I know, of course you are,” Yasha agrees without condescension. She wipes some of the sand away from Beau’s abdomen and replaces it with the palms of both of her hands. A delicate glow of white light marked by small streaks of blue lightning emits from the interface of their skin as she casts healing hands. 

The soothing sensation of the spell spreads throughout her body as Beau is lying on her back looking up into Yasha’s face. Her beautiful face with it’s angular jaw and wild eyes and small crease on the forehead which never quite seems to go away. A light halo forms around Yasha from her body partially blocking the midday sun. _Gods, you truly are an angel._

Beau responds slyly, “Who’s playing dirty, now?”

The flush from fighting had begun to fade but the suggestive tone in Beau’s voice causes the pink to grow on Yasha’s cheeks again, she fails at suppressing the smile that follows, “Obviously this is benefiting you so..you know it’s not really cheating.” 

“Does Beauregard concede?” The voice is nasally and high pitched as it reaches across the arena. 

The world returns to them both suddenly. Yasha looks to their surroundings, desperation grows with the wrinkle on her brow as she notices the crowd has grown larger and more boisterous. It was getting to be much more than she was comfortable with, especially as the rage began to fade. 

“Yes,” Beau shouts from the ground with a bit more fervor than one would expect from the loser of a fighting pit bout. “Yeah, I - I do,” she adjusts her tone to sound a bit more wounded, then gently touches Yasha’s arm and whispers, “Wanna get out of here?” 

Normally this phrase from Beau would carry a certain kind of subtext but the tone was more full of concern than lasciviousness. Yasha just nods in response then helps Beau to her feet by slinging Beau’s arm around her neck and lifting Beau with one arm at the waist. They remain like this as they only slightly limp out of the ring. By the time the emcee collects the prize to bring to the center, the two of them are gone. 

Yasha’s discomfort begins to fade with the sound of the crowd as they reach a nearby tree line and head under the thick canopy. Beau is not nearly as hurt as she lets on. She exaggerates a groan as Yasha sets her down on the trunk of an overturned tree. Yasha gives Beau a knowing look as she removes the tie that is barely holding her thick black tresses back., “I would say sorry but you know what you signed up for.”

“Can I un-sign up for it?” Beau shakes her own hair out then quickly places it back into a bun. 

“Unfortunately Caleb hasn’t quite unlocked those specific time travel spells yet.” Yasha is slightly bent over, shaking the sand out of her ears and freshly loosened hair. She stands upright, flipping her hair into its usual configuration then tousles it a bit more to get it settled into a manageable drape. The Moonweaver is truly fucking with Beauregard today. 

Yasha notices Beau staring, “What?”

“You just, uh -,” _are abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous_ Beau stands and meets Yasha’s face gently with her open palm. She starts brushing away bits of sand still clinging to Yasha’s jaw and neck, “ - missed a spot.” 

Yasha turns her head and stretches her neck in order to cooperate and hopes that Beau can not see or feel the heartbeat throbbing in her neck. It started racing as soon as Beau’s fingers touched her and is now skipping a beat every time their eyes meet. Beau is standing so close. Her hand is probably lingering longer than needed. _I don’t want her to stop touching me. Fuck._

Yasha breathes in deeply then brings her thumb to the spot above Beau’s lip, still caked with blood. She hopes that Beau can’t feel how much she is shaking. She cradles the entirety of Beau’s jaw in her palm and her calloused fingertips brush Beau’s neck, “You, uh missed a spot too.” 

“Haha, yeah,“ Beau laughs awkwardly. She attempts to bring a wrapped hand up and turn away but an arm stops her at the waist. Beau doesn’t resist as it pulls her close. 

“Uh, you got me, I’ll get you,” Yasha produces a cloth from a pocket in her pants.

“Yeah, of course,” Beau responds and Yasha begins to clear the scab away. Her brain blanks out when the musty smell of sweat and war paint wax mixed with the sweet scent of flowers and hair oils surrounds her. 

“If Caleb could turn back time, would you do it?” Yasha asks, hesitantly. 

“Hmm?” Beau blinks while her brain snaps back to her body, “OH, yeah...no, absolutely not.”

Yasha laughs, “Well that was a quick answer.” 

“Yeah, it’s a no brainer. I couldn’t ask for a better life. It’s exactly what I always wanted,” Beau says plainly, like it was a foregone conclusion. 

“There, I think I got it.” Yasha shoves the freshly red stained cloth back in her pocket but does not release her arm around Beau’s waist. Beau responds by raising her hands to Yasha’s shoulders. “What about you?” Beau wants to retract the question as soon as it comes out. _Of course she would want to_.

Yasha’s bright smile turns pensive again, “I’m not sure if I would.” She easily notices the surprise on Beau’s face. “I mean, I would definitely consider it, especially to change some of the more painful parts of my past but ...they’ve made me who I am and I think I’m starting to really like who I am.”

“You are pretty awesome.”

Yasha lets out an awkward laugh, “Hah, you are too.”

“I know,” Beau gives a shrug. 

Yasha wants to kiss the smug grin off her face but she just laughs again. “I don’t know, my path is what it is. I’m not sure I would want to risk what it has brought me.”

“And what’s that?” Beau’s question is leading but has an element of open curiosity.

Yasha mulls over the correct words to answer with. The list is long. She thinks about the friendships of the Mighty Nein, defeating the entity that had violated her, the glories and spoils of battle, her wings. There is only one answer appropriate for this moment. She pulls Beau even closer, “I think you know.”

Yasha doesn’t have far to go before their lips meet. Beau eagerly closes the space between them as well. They are lost in their kiss. Beau barely feels a twinge of pain when Yasha’s arms wrap around her torso and press lightly on her freshly bruised rib. A similar sensation hits Yasha when Beau’s hands drop from her shoulders and gently press on the part of her abdomen where several quick blows had struck earlier. The pain is just background noise to the chorale of their embrace. 

When they break for air, grinning like fools, Beau leans in and breathlessly whispers Yasha’s name, punctuated with a question mark.

“Hmm?” Yasha responds, then nuzzles into Beau’s neck.

Beau’s voice jumps a bit as Yasha’s lips begin to press into her jawline, “I would have won the fight, you know.” She can feel Yasha’s smile form on her skin.

“Well, I think we both won.” Yasha lifts Beau without even removing her lips from the crook between her neck and clavicle. Beau instinctively wraps her legs around Yasha’s waist and allows herself to be carried then looks to the sky and thanks whatever gods are listening. 

**FADE TO BLACK**


	2. The Outfit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world keeps turning. Yasha needs to get some practice in for her Travelercon performance but it gets a little hard when a certain monk comes bearing gifts.

Yasha sits alone. All ten fingers rapidly plucking at the strings on the harp in her lap. A multi layered nearly cacophonous sound rings out. Jester requested rock harp so she’s been trying to move away from the sad, meandering tune that she usually produces. It’s been easier - and harder - ever since the moments with Beau, in the sand pit and in the woods. The excitement is easy to channel, but sometimes wanders a bit too far into love song territory. 

A discordant sound suddenly resonantes from the harp punctuated by a gruff, “Fuck!” when an incorrect string is plucked. The urge to pitch the whole damned instrument across the room is almost too much. She lets out a frustrated growl, then resumes her position. Harp in lap, fingers on strings. 

_Come on Yasha, focus._ The melody starts and stops a few times before finding its way and she manages to stay on task until the last vibrations of the piece she was working on ricochet around the walls. 

“Is that a new one?” An unexpected but not unwelcome voice punctuates the final notes and Yasha looks up suddenly, nearly tossing the harp aside again in her startled state. 

“Oh sorry, “ Beau answers sheepishly. “I knocked and thought you saw me. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Yasha smiles, “You couldn’t scare me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Beau answers brashly. She is leaning lazily in the open entryway of the door frame, arms crossed, half crooked smile. The animal skin curtain that barely serves as a door is pulled close behind her. 

Yasha notices she’s wearing a different outfit than her usual blue robes of the cobalt soul. Her pants are a deep maroon color and cling closer to the skin than usual. They are cinched with a wide slate gray sash that wraps around her waist twice then falls just a few inches down her thigh. On top is a low cut vest of muted yellow with embroidery along the ribbing that features multicolored flowers dotting maroon vines. The topknot on her head is a bit more contained than usual. The smell of Jester’s pomade wafts into Yasha’s nose. She looks very handsome and it makes Yasha acutely aware that she isn’t sure about anything other than a few base desires boiling to the surface.

Yasha feels herself starting to blush and turns back around suddenly to set her harp down, fidget with it unnecessarily and stand up. She clears her throat and ignores the question, “Is there trouble?”

Beau laughed lightly. “No, not really..other than Fjord maybe being bored to death while Jester and Caduceus _discuss_ ,” Beau punctuates the word with her hands forming “air quotes” then puts them back at her waist, “whether he can serve his dead people tea to Travelercon-ers? Conspersons? Conspeople? Conspeople, sure why not?” Her gaze had strayed while contemplating this nomenclature but it returns to Yasha with this conclusion, somewhat expectantly.

Yasha is watching her silently, appreciating the way that Beau is able to say whatever she’s thinking without worrying about how people will respond. Yasha rarely feels this kind of freedom. Though she has many skills, being the smartest person in the room isn’t exactly one of them. She tends to deliberate over most thoughts before sharing them, and often a bit too much. 

After a brief awkward silence, she realizes she is expressing this personality trait perfectly at the moment and Beau is waiting for some kind of response. “Yeah, oh yeah, of course. Conspeople is great.” She says slowly. _Why am I like this??_

Beau realizes her brain may have been uncontrollably spilling out inane thoughts again and suddenly feels silly, “Anyway…sorry...but I got you something.” Her voice perks up as she pulls a bundle from the satchel at her side. It’s a rather large article of clothing that has been folded so haphazardly that she isn’t quite sure what kind of outfit it is. 

“There was a collection of stuff that some of the villagers had hidden away from their old lives but didn’t want after they decided to stay...”’

 _Ah that’s where Beau’s new outfit came from._ Yasha quietly thanks random Vo villager #24.

“...I saw this and it made me think of Molly and seems to be your size.. I don’t know, it may not be your style…”

Beau unravels the full garment. It’s a one piece jumpsuit type outfit. The wide legged pants portion is made with a light, flowing cotton fabric. It bears vertical stripes of thin but slightly varying width that are alternating shades of grey. The top portion has a similar weight and looseness of fabric for the bodice area but the sleeves are made of a much lighter, somewhat sheer kind of fabric like chiffon or voile.

The top has a bit of a wide neck and is open down the front with buttons available to cinch it back together. The left breast side is also detached from the lower pants portion and comes down to a bit of a gradual point just below the waist. A wide band of extra fabric is sewn into the edges where the bodice area comes apart. This mostly seems to serve as extra support but also bears loops at the waist for holding an attached cord. This chord is meant to wrap from the back and help hold the bottom portion up. When the top is fully buttoned, most of it hangs loosely over the chord, obscuring it from view.

The dye pattern on the top is an inconsistent arrangement of angular, nearly diamond and scale shaped patches in a variety of somewhat muted colors. It does not look entirely clownish but it is much brighter than what Yasha normally wears. She’s not sure it’s her style either, but it looks light and comfortable which is always a positive. 

Beau senses her hesitation, then quickly starts to fold it back up, “Ok, well, like I said, I wasn’t sure it - “ She is interrupted by Yasha’s hand gently touching her forearm.

“It’s beautiful.” Yasha gently takes the outfit from her. “I’d love to try it on.”

“Ok.” Beau lingers for a moment until Yasha looks toward the doorway. “Oh right. Although I mean, I’ve already seen you naked,” she adds as she exits the room and the animal skin falls behind her again.

Yasha darts around the room quickly removing clothing and heading toward a washing basin half full with slightly cloudy water. _Eh, it’s better than nothing._ She adds a few drops of perfumed oil to the water then wets her hands and runs it over her hair to hopefully temper some of it’s frizzy disheveled-ness. She then finds a clean-ish cloth, dips it in and wrings it out attempting to make as small a splashing sound as possible. She washes most of her naked body, paying a modicum of extra attention to her armpits, underboob and pubic area, then replaces her underclothes. 

In the flurry, Yasha takes a moment to regard the bruises now blooming on her torso from Beau’s fists during yesterday’s fight. She doesn’t bruise easily and a second hand sense of pride in Beau’s strength fills her. _That’s my girl._

She pulls the jumpsuit on slowly so as to not get tangled in it then does all the buttons except the top. The fabric on the legs and bodice is a little scratchier than expected but the sleeves are soft and flowing. A welcome breeze moves over her legs and arms through the cloth as she waves them around a bit. 

“Ok, what do you think?” Yasha yells at the door as she finishes cinching the cord belt at her waist. The animal skin moves aside before she can finish the question. Yasha is smoothing out the angled bottom of the left breast side of the bodice and looks up to see Beau stopped just inside the threshold, mouth slightly agape. “Well?” She’s suddenly very nervous. 

“Uh, it’s g-good. Yeah.” Beau sputters a bit.

“Yeah, you think so?” Yasha is looking down and turning to try and get a look at her back. Unfortunately, there are no real mirrors in the room. She thinks about trying to get a reflection from the water in the basin but it has turned rather dark. “It’s a little tight in the shoulders,” she shrugs and adjusts the slightly open collar a bit. 

Beau comes out of her stupor to move toward Yasha and pull lightly on the cloth around the shoulders to make sure it’s not twisted or crumpled. “Yeah, a little. You’ll just have to make sure you’re not doing anything too... physical while wearing it.” 

Yasha laughs, “Well, it certainly isn’t a battle outfit.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant, ” Beau pushes up on her toes and tilts her head up.

“Oh,” Yasha meets her lips eagerly. 

They had been interrupted yesterday by drunken revelers wandering into the trees to relieve themselves and promptly passing out. Now, Yasha desperately wants to pick up where they left off. Beau’s hands move to the bottom button on the bodice. It’s obvious she does too. 

But Yasha sees the animal skin flap gently as someone passes by in the hallway and worry fills her. 

“Beau,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Beau’s voice is muffled. Her lips have moved to Yasha’s chin. There is a faint bruise marking the spot where Beau’s head had made contact with the angular jaw yesterday. She makes a point to brush it tenderly with her lips before burrowing deeper into her neck. 

_Oh gods that feels good._ Yasha impulsively releases a slight moan, takes a deep breath then changes tone. “Wait.” It’s the opposite of what she actually wants. “Uh, wait just a sec.” She forces herself to pull back. 

Beau pulls her hands away as soon as she feels Yasha’s body stiffen up. She has already un-clasped the button at the bottom of the bodice but leaves it for now. “Oh, sorry, did I do something wrong?” Beau is making a poor attempt at hiding the hurt on her face. 

“No, no of course not... it’s just,” she motions to the door. “This place isn’t very private.”

“Right, yeah. Stupid friends and their nosiness.” 

“Hah yeah, I bet Veth is out there listening right now.” Yasha replaces her undone button. 

Their simultaneous laugh quickly turns serious as they remember that Veth is, in fact, one of the stealthiest people they know and could definitely be hiding in the hallway. Beau bolts to the door and pulls the curtain back. She sighs a breath of relief upon seeing no one there then turns back to Yasha and shakes her head. “We’re good.”

“Well, if she had been there, would we really know?” 

Beau shrugs, “Eh, we agreed to not tell them ‘till after Travelercon, but if they found out on their own?”

“Beau,” it’s Yasha’s turn to show a tinge of disappointment.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” She puts her hands on Yasha’s waist. “It’s just so hard to keep my hands off you. Especially in this.” She tugs lightly on the sides of the jumpsuit. “You really do look amazing.”

Yasha smiles broadly, “You look amazing too.”

“I know.”

They stare silently into each other’s eyes until their cheeks are fully flushed. 

“Ok, ok, ok.” Yasha eventually concedes. “I need to practice more, before tomorrow.” She moves out of Beau’s grip to return to her harp.

“Yeah, hey what about a bit of a compromise. Since tomorrow’s gonna be full of all sorts of people and excitement. I was thinking of heading down the beach a bit and finding a quiet spot to meditate and, you know, have some alone time. Would you want to bring your harp and join me? Just for a walk, no funny business.”

Yasha’s brow furrows, “If I come then it wouldn’t exactly be alone time.”

“Yeah but it would be like,” Beau puts her hands in front of her about a foot and a half apart and with just her pointer fingers sticking up, she moves the hands together until her fingers almost touch and finishes, “alone time...together.”

The furrow deepens, “Alone time...together?” 

“Yeah, exactly.” Beau says as though she is perfectly understood. “You do your thing, I do my thing but we do them near each other.”

Yasha doesn’t exactly get it but a secluded area of the beach would probably be better for avoiding interruption than the bustling village where people keep asking her to pull things down from high places. And besides, there’s no harm in enjoying some scenery while she practices.

“Yeah, ok. Why not?”

Beau’s face lights up. “Great, perfect. We should probably leave separately to avoid you know...” 

Yasha nods in response and thinks about whether she should bring Skin Gorger. 

“I’ll head north on the beach,” Beau takes Yasha’s free hand then steps up to give her a parting kiss. “See you soon.” Her tone is mildly suggestive and Yasha answers it playfully with a scolding expression.

Beau scoffs then pulls her into another quick kiss. She turns on her heel as soon as she pulls away and heads out the door. Yasha stands watching the fluttering animal skin. The stark contrast between how she feels when Beau is there and when she is not is completely out of her control. It makes her feel a bit foolish but kind of lucky

After a moment Yasha grabs her harp and catches a brief, warped glimpse of her reflection in a silver platter on the table. She decides to bring Skin Gorger, not because she expects trouble but because having the rusty implement of death strapped on her back brings a bit of familiarity and comfort. She takes a deep breath, releases it, fusses with her clothing for another moment then follows Beau’s exit.


	3. The Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yasha broods, Beau sneaks

Yasha follows the forged path through the thick tropical brush from the village to the beach. The morning mist that hangs about the island has fully evaporated under a rising sun and she is grateful for the occasional bits of shade provided by thick trunked palm trees along the way. She’s smiling widely as her thoughts drift between melodies she’d like to try out on her harp and memories of Beau’s hands on her skin. It is hard to let herself sit in that elation for too long though. Her mind always inevitably meanders toward feelings of doubt and unworthiness, especially when it comes to relationships. But she’s trying.

She’s fending off one of these such ruminations when she catches evidence of sudden movement in the branches that stretch above her path. She looks up, reaching for Skin Gorger but unable to pull it free before a blur of brown skin covered in maroon and yellow clothing drops behind her. Yasha turns quickly, heart racing from the anticipation of assault. 

“Haha, gotcha,” Beau is close enough to reach out a hand and lightly poke the tip of Yasha’s nose. 

Yasha releases her grip on Skin Gorger’s hilt. “I could have killed you.”

“You could have tried.” Beau looks up at Yasha, expectantly. The look is met with a firm tug from Yasha’s arm now wrapped around her waist. Beau allows herself to be pulled and their bodies crash together. Yasha wants to offer a witty retort but having Beau this close, her scent seems to be amplified by the sweat glinting on her skin. The piercing blue eyes, the wayward lock of brown hair gently framing her mischievous, cocksure grin and the adrenaline still coursing through Yasha’s veins pushes all verbal language from her mind. She meets Beau’s mouth, hungrily, not even attempting to contain herself. 

Beau is practically bent over backwards from the force of Yasha’s desire and for a moment she wants to give in. But, the middle of a relatively well traveled path is not the place for all of the wild places her imagination is now going. “Ok, ok.” Beau pulls Yasha’s arm from her waist but leaves her hand as an offering. Yasha takes the hand gladly and interlaces their fingers. She kisses the back of it and her expression turns sheepish as her world view expands to include more than just Beau.

“Sorry, I got carried away.”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for wanting me. This just isn’t...the best place. You know, wandering monsters or people.”

Yasha nods eagerly, “Yeah, yeah, of course. Wouldn’t want to have to fight a monster naked.”

Beau laughs, “Yeah, that would suck.”

Yasha adds, “Or, you know, kill someone so they don’t spill our secret.”

“Right, exactly,” Beau’s laughter makes Yasha smile.

They continued down the path together, hands still clasped. “You had some serious brow furrow going on when I spotted you, anything I should be worried about too?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing important I guess, I can’t really remember. Probably just a little bit worried about my performance tomorrow.” Yasha doesn’t know if it’s a lie or not. She tries to remember what she had been thinking of but time seems to slow when she is alone with Beau and now it feels like forever ago. She does remember a vague flare up of the dread that she can’t seem to ever truly shake.

“I’m sure you’ll be great.” Beau responds, with genuine belief in the statement. “And, if you’re not, then, like, these people probably haven’t heard rock harp before so they wouldn’t know if it was good or bad, right?”

Yasha laughs, “Yeah.”

“I mean, who are they to say anything about your artistic expression when they don’t even know how to play a harp?” Beau was gesturing with her free hand to emphasize her point. It looks a bit like she’s punching at the air. 

“True,” Yasha nods.

“Plus, I’ll beat up anyone who gives you shit.” Beau says matter of factly and discontinues her gesturing. She releases her hand in order to hook her elbow into Yasha’s arm and gently sets her forehead onto Yasha’s shoulder.

Yasha looks down at Beau. She has such a different way of viewing the world and of dealing with uncertainty. It seems so reckless and full of belief in herself and in her friends. Yasha begins to entertain the idea of sharing more of her own worries. The ones that are harder to explain. 

Beau looks up and their eyes meet. They share a short kiss as they continue to walk and as they both pull away Yasha looks forward and quietly adds, “I do..you know.”

Beau scrunches up her face a bit in confusion, “you do, what?”

“Want you.” 

They smile and kiss briefly again.

“Ok, ok,” Beau babbles a bit. “Let’s get going.”


End file.
